Stolen Car
by DancingwithDestiny
Summary: The movements were so routine, they were almost instinctual now. Twist here, twist there...it was nothing, for Axel the car thief. But when his imagination runs away with him one night during a theft, can he continue to justify his life of crime? One-shot


Hiya! :D A fanfic without a fanpairing? omg D:  
Well, okay, there's a pairing in here somewhere, but I'm not gonna say what it is. ;) That's up to you.  
So, this is my first songfic, based on the song "Stolen Car" by Sting. Look it up on YouTube and listen to it before you read this, if you want =)  
(The ALBUM version, not the radio version. The radio version kinda ruins the storytelling aspect of the song :|)  
Or after you read it, whatever you wanna do. *shrug*

Anyway, I was inspired to write this sometime last year after listening to this song again. I LOVE songs that tell a story well, and the way Sting does it is amazing. "Stolen Car" isn't quite the kind of song you can dance to; it's the kind of song you listen to for a good story. And the song is a bit like a short story...which led to this. :P  
I tried to pull a decent story out of it, while incorporating the original lyrics here and there.  
I hope you enjoy it. :)

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, and I did not write the song "Stolen Car."

* * *

It was a sweltering summer night. The streets were dim and empty, void of nearly all human presence. Then, out of the shadows came a young man, walking calmly but purposefully down the street.

Clad in dark clothing, he has a purpose in coming here. His emerald-toned eyes scanned the sides of the street, the cars parked parallel. He fingered the cold wire in his pocket.

He didn't like doing this. He hated that his path in life had taken him to this. But, that was how it had went, and now this was his trade. His cultivated skill.

He loved summer nights like this; the heat made him feel alive. He breathed in the humid air slowly, liking the thickness of moisture he felt in it.

One car in particular caught his eye, and so he decided there would be no further delay; someone might see him if he lingered too long on that street. He strode casually toward it, as though it were his own.

A black Mercedes-Benz. It probably belonged to someone quite wealthy, and was most likely worth quite a bit, as well. A good catch.

He stealthily approached the car's door, and knelt down beside it, pulling out the wire from his pocket.

The movements were so routine, they were almost instinctual now. Twist here, twist there...it was nothing, for Axel the car thief.

The door unlocked with a click, and the young man pulled it open and climbed inside. From his seated position, he subtly reached underneath the steering wheel, feeling for the wires he needed with an expert touch.

He could hot-wire an ignition better than the best of them; he almost made an art of it, and, despite his growing distaste for this trade, he always felt a thrill of adrenaline go through him whenever the engine would spark to life under his hands.

He pulled on the seatbelt, took the wheel, and leaned over to whisper to the ignition, just before he flicked on the headlights.

"_Come on, baby, don't let me get caught this time."_

There was no time to admire his catch; he had to make a quick getaway, before the owner of the car might see him. So he put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking space, holding his breath.

When he pulled onto a main road, far enough away from the street where he'd began, he released his breath, relieved. He wasn't out of danger, but most of the risk had already passed him by.

Now that he didn't have to keep up his vigilance quite as much, Axel took time to look over the car he had captured.

The interior was very clean; someone took good care of this car. The dashboard features were something to behold, and if he hadn't had to keep his attention on the road, he would have experimented with them. Of all the cars he'd swiped before, this one was the fanciest, hands-down. He'd never been in a car this exquisite.

_I'm just a poor boy in a rich man's car, _he thought with a smirk and a shake of his head_._

The scent of the leather upholstery filled his nostrils; oh, how he loved that smell. It was close to intoxicating to him.

As he dully kept the car going at just under the speed limit, he found his mind wandering, as if the smell of the preserved cattle skin truly were a drug...

He started to imagine the kind of person who might have owned this car.

* * *

_A shrewd businessman, sharply dressed, his long silver hair extending past his shoulders._

_Despite the silver hair, he was not an old man; he had just had the misfortune of graying early in life._

_He was married; had two children. His wife was beautiful._

_He had everything a man could ask for in life, but somehow, it wasn't enough._

_His children, though he loved them dearly, frayed his nerves sometimes. And his wife, though she was beautiful, and as devoted of a partner as she could be, she couldn't satisfy him enough._

_So the company director would take his car, and drive off to a place where neither his wife nor his children could find him. A place where he could get his satisfaction, whenever he needed it._

_He opened the apartment complex door, and there she was; his lover for the evening._

_He couldn't do this very often. He had to tell his wife that his business trip went on longer than expected, or that there had been an accident on the road that kept him from getting home on time._

_But all that didn't matter right now._

_He threw off his sport coat and pulled off his dress shoes, and met his mistress in the queen-size bed._

_After she had satisfied him, they lay together, the scent of her perfume mingling with his own._

_The young woman with rich red hair, who had no clue about her lover, embraced him, and slid close enough to whisper into his ear._

Axel could almost hear the words ringing in his own ear:

"_Please take me dancing tonight, I've been all on my own..._

_You promised one day we could; that's what you said on the phone..."_

_He doesn't oblige. Her mood changes instantly._

"_I'm just a prisoner of love, always hid from the light..."_

_She switches back to pleading with him, drawing close to him again._

"_Take me dancing, please take me dancing tonight..."_

_Maybe next time, he tells her._

_

* * *

_

_There is a woman, in another place; the wife of this company director. She appears strong, confident; a flash of intelligence present in her hazel eyes._

_She suspects something._

_Her husband has been coming home late more than usual, and when he'd come home, she could swear that she could smell a note or two of an unfamiliar perfume in the breeze as he passed her by._

_And their nights of intimacy were becoming fewer and fewer._

_The possibilities plague her mind, as she drives to pick up her children from private school. As the children, a boy and a girl, get in the car, the woman's cell phone rings._

_Her husband is on the line. As she begins to drive, he tells her that he'll be late again tonight, and working alone. She says okay, but her teeth are grinding._

_See you tonight, he says, and hangs up._

_The pieces are falling into place. She knew something had to be going on, and this confirmed it._

_She's had it._

_The children keep talking, keep asking her about their father._

_She veers off-course, taking a different road._

_The siblings won't keep quiet. She scolds them, running a red light in the process. The pair shrink back into their seats, saying no more._

_The sun is quickly setting, but she knows her destination._

_She drives into the night, her two children silent and scared. She thinks of her husband, and her entire relationship with him; what it was like in the beginning, and what it had become now._

_He never even took her out, just the two of them, anymore..._

_

* * *

_

_**Please take me dancing tonight, I've been all on my own...**_

_**You promised one day we could, that's what you said on the phone...**_

_**I'm just a prisoner of love, always hid from the light...**_

_**Take me dancing, please take me dancing tonight...**_

_**

* * *

**_

The blaring of a car horn jolted the car thief back into the present. Axel blinked, looked around, and looked into the rear view mirror.

There was a car behind him. Apparently he was at a stop light, and he didn't know how long he'd been there.

He shook his head. _Get it together, man. You're losing your focus._

The light blinked to red again, so despite the disgruntled driver behind him, they both would have to wait.

But as he waited, his mind wandered. What if this _were_ the car of an adulterer? What if his wife were on her way at this very moment, to catch him someplace where he wasn't supposed to be? Axel smirked at this. He'd feel justified in taking this car if that were the case. _Serves him right._

But, what if this car were the wife's? What then, with the man staying out late more and more, leaving the rest of his family without a car? What if one of the children became ill?

Even though they were only in his mind, he began to pity the young children. He even imagined what they looked like: A blond boy approaching adolescence, and a black-haired younger sister, both with round, childish faces, and deep blue eyes. If they were to find out about their father's disloyalty, or worse, be hindered or harmed as a result of it...

_Shit, _he thought, running a hand through his hair. Guilt was creeping into his consciousness.

The logical half of his mind spoke up. _What's your problem? Getting all worked up over an imaginary family? You don't even know if any of that is __real._

_But,_ the emotional side of his mind, the side that was the voice of his heart, said, _there's no way of knowing that it __isn't__ real, either. At least some part of it. These cars...they could belong to anyone. And one act of convenience of mine...can result in a lot of hell for them. I'm just an unnecessary, unwanted complication in their lives._

Honnnk.

Axel looked up, and he saw the light was green again.

As he tapped the gas pedal, he made up his mind. He can't do this anymore.

He can't return the car he has now; it would be entirely too risky, and jail's something he's never wanted for himself. So he'd let this sin run its course, deliver him one last payout. But it would be his last car. His last score. He promised himself this, swore to change his ways, and find something better to do with his life to get by. And he hoped that if there was a God, that He'd forgive him for making a turnaround based entirely on conscience.

His mother would be proud. Well, if she knew about his double-life, that is.

So he drove on into the night, focusing on the road but at the same time imagining the outcome of his leather-scent-induced dream, the lines like a song in his mind, one set of them playing over and over...

_Take me dancing tonight..._


End file.
